


Everything that I Knew of Love

by iwouldgetaniguana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Discussion of socio-political issues, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Galra Keith (Voltron), Happy Ending, Mentions of PTSD, Multi, Team as Family, bc I was bad at guessing, but it’s actually not that angsty despite, klance is BrOTP or OTP your call, the longer you think about this show the more you realize there’s some deep shit to wade through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9324260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwouldgetaniguana/pseuds/iwouldgetaniguana
Summary: Team Voltron learns something about the Galra, and Keith learns what it means to have a family.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, everyone else was doing a Galra!Keith fic. *jumps off bridge* Beta’d by Shiloa, who is the actual best for helping me with this.
> 
> WARNING: Although there are no spoilers for season 2 in this fic, the fact that it's now canon divergent is sort of a spoiler in and of itself. Also, the comments section has some spoilers for s2, Beast King GoLion, and interviews with the showrunners, so just be wary if you venture there.

You can change all the machinery in a ship, Coran knows – fix all the parts that break, replace the ones that can’t be fixed, re-design the systems that need updating – without the ship becoming a different ship. The Castle of Lions will always be the Castle of Lions, no matter that it once had Galran crystal energy running through it, and the same would be true for any ship; a ship, his grandfather used to say, is more than the sum of its parts. Perhaps that’s why Keith’s bio-scan information seemed so trivial to him that he just spit it out. But perhaps there is also some truth to what his aunt used to say about tactful timing and his lack thereof.

“Wait, I’m sorry, did you just say ‘ _part-Galra-physiology’_?” Hunk squeaks.

Coran winces. “Nothing to worry about,” he assures the team, showing them the monitor screen from the healing pod Keith had been in. “It’s just his immune system. Seems to have dealt with the poison unusually quickly – that’s a good thing!” He spreads his hands and grins around at them all.

“Okay but go back to the _part-Galra_ thing,” Lance insists, shoulders stiff and eyes bugged out, flicking to Keith and away again.

“Well,” Coran says, trying to keep his tone as chipper and non-threatening as possible (something he _is_ good at), “Based on the data we collected from Sendak when he was in the memory-extraction chamber, and the data we have from healing Keith, it seems that Keith is part-Galra.”

But the faces of Voltron’s Paladins do not _look_ unthreatened. They are tight and aghast and _frightened_ –

“But that – that’s not possible,” Shiro gasps out, eyes haunted.

“Keith’s from _Earth_ , he came with _us_ ,” Hunk insists.

“Now everyone, there’s no need for alarm,” Coran says, making a patting gesture with his hands. It had never worked before but perhaps this time –

“How is this _not_ alarming?” Pidge asks.

Coran turns to Keith – Keith, whose eyes are darting between each of his teammates, who’s leaning against a healing pod just to stay upright, face much paler than Coran thinks is normal for a healthy human. “It’s probably not that unusual,” Coran tells the boy gently. “The Galra have been colonizing other planets for the last ten thousand years, of course there are people with part-Galran parentage. We’ve probably met some of them already! It doesn’t change anything about you.”

“B-but,” Keith stutters out. “I’m from _Earth_ , they haven’t, they don’t even –”

“It’s true that the Galra haven’t invaded Earth yet,” Coran reasons, “But they were at Kerberos, and we know they were searching your solar system for the Blue Lion. We can’t really be sure of anything.”

The others all eye Keith warily, each frozen where they stand. Keith opens his mouth a few more times, but no words come out. Coran sees the instant his knees buckle, and launches himself across the room to catch the poor boy before he falls.

“Easy does it,” Coran tells him, looping one of Keith’s arms around his shoulders. “You just got out of the healing pod after a serious illness, you shouldn’t stress yourself out like this. You’re healthy – that’s what matters! But to stay that way, you’ll need food, and some rest.”

“Be that as it may, Coran,” the Princess begins, gaze flickering between all of the Paladins and their grim expressions. “Perhaps we should address the issue of –”

“I told you, it’s nothing to worry about!” Coran says, putting a steadying hand on Keith’s waist. What would his grandfather say in this situation? “In fact, if not for the Galran aspects of Keith’s physiology, he’d probably be dead!”

With a shuddering breath, Keith faints dead away.

Definitely should have heeded aunt Comalia, Coran thinks.

*^^^*

Shiro doesn’t sleep a wink that night. He just sees Keith’s pale, horrified face whenever he tries. How could he have done that to Keith? _Keith._

He does know better, he _does,_ he just – sometimes when it’s hard enough telling the past from the present, things can get mixed up. _He_ can _slip_ up. But this isn’t about him, it’s about Keith, so he hides out in a corner opposite the med-bay, and catches Keith trying to sneak out the next day. “Hey, wait up!” Shiro calls, jogging to catch up to him.

Keith flinches and halts, does not turn his way. Shiro’s heart clenches.

“Hey,” he says again, more gently, as he reaches him. He lays a hand on Keith’s shoulder, but Keith just gets tenser. “You okay?”

Keith’s lips purse into a very thin line.

Shiro gusts out a breath. “Look – I’m sorry for how I acted the other day. I was just surprised. We all were, and everyone feels bad about it. Coran explained it all to us, and he’s right. It doesn’t change a thing about you.”

Keith says nothing.

“And I know your, um, your heritage has always been a sore spot for you,” Shiro continues, squeezing Keith’s shoulder, “but you don’t have to deal with this alone this time. We’re all here for you, whatever you need.”

“Right.” Keith does not move a muscle, and it’s like another flashback; Keith, when they first met. “Thanks.”

Shiro draws in a breath, comes around to try to look Keith in the eye. “Hey. It’s gonna be alright.”

Keith clenches his fists. “ _Alright?_ ” he bites out, “I’m part enemy, Shiro! Part- alien fucker who took you captive and _cut off your fucking arm!_ Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like wha –”

“Like you’re trying not to see _them_ when you look at me!” Keith yells, and his face is red and his eyes are wet, and Shiro can’t do anything as Keith yanks away and storms past him up the hallway.

“Keith!”

“Don’t follow me, Shiro!” is what echoes back to him as his friend disappears. Shiro curses himself. He should have planned this better. How could he have let this happen?

*^^^*

On the third day of Keith keeping himself locked in his room, Pidge snaps. Enough is enough. That moron should know by now that Pidge isn’t going to let him get away with his self-depreciating emo-kid loner bullshit.

So she hacks her way through the electronic lock on his door.

“What the hell!” is how Keith greets her.

“Nice to see you too,” she deadpans, looking him over. Bloodshot eyes, greasy hair, chapped lips. “You look awful.”

Keith glares and crosses his arms. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you can just leave.” Obvious subtext.

Pidge sighs. This isn’t her strong suit, so she’ll stick to the facts. “You remember what I said about understanding what my father meant about his team being like his family?”

Keith pales and swallows, but narrows his eyes. “Yeah?”

Pidge rolls her eyes. “You’re still part of that team, dumbass.”

A pause. “Oh.”

“And you know what lengths I’m willing to go to for my family, right?” she continues, gaze hard and locked onto his.

His eyes widen. He swallows again. “Uh...yeah.” It comes out raspy.

“Good.” Pidge waves a hand and turns back to the door. “Glad that’s settled. Now take a shower and go eat something before I have to do something drastic.”

The door hisses closed behind her.

*^^^*

Hunk figures that there is no problem so awful that food can’t fix it. A nutritious meal is _proven_ to help elevate mood and promote healthy brain activity. Plus, who doesn’t love a good home-made meal? It makes you feel all relaxed, and safe, and special.... And alright, maybe this is more _space_ -made but it’s the thought that counts, he’s always said. And so Hunk has it all ready to go, a huge dish of special fruit-flavoured breakfast-goo, garnished with some clove-like spice-plant sticks that he’d found cyro-frozen in the kitchen stores last week, for when Keith finally slinks into the kitchen.

“There you are!” Hunk greets, and Keith jumps about a foot in the air. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I, um...” Keith peters out as Hunk slides the dish onto the table. “What’s this?” He sounds like he needs to cough up a furball, but he’s meeting basic hygiene requirements and looks tired but not exhausted. All good signs.

“I made you breakfast!” Hunk explains.

Keith actually blushes, bless him. “I...you didn’t have to, I’m not actually all that hungry...”

Hunk pulls out the full-body pout. 98.2% success rate.

“Um...but,” Keith shuffles closer to the goo-laden plate. “This...actually smells good.”

Hunk smiles. “Right? I can’t wait to try all sorts of things with this spice stuff!”

“Yeah. Um. Thanks, Hunk.” And Keith moves to take it and go.

“Woah, woah, woah, man!” Hunk exclaims. “Where are you going?”

Keith stills. “Um.”

“Dude, I think if you just go back to locking yourself in your room Pidge is gonna...well, I don’t know what, exactly, but I _know_ you don’t wanna know either.”

Keith sits down, on the edge of his seat. “Sorry.” He puts a spoonful of goo in his mouth.

“No, no,” Hunk assures him, digging into his own breakfast (also fruit flavoured, but less elegant). “It’s cool. I get why you might not want to be around everyone right now.”

Keith freezes.

“Nooonono that came out wrong!” Hunk flails his spoon about. Him and his big _mouth_. “I mean I get why you might want to be _alone_ right now, ‘cause that’s kind of your thing when you’re, uh.... But we’re all here for you, man. Don’t doubt it.”

Keith looks to the side, like that’s exactly what he’s doing. And Hunk doesn’t know – how do they come back from this? He’s an engineer, fixing things is like, his _thing_ , but _teams_...

People don’t have blueprints.

Hunk sighs.“Look, you just gotta give us some time,” he says, looking down at his goo. “We’ve been trained to think anything Galra is bad, so everyone needs to adjust a little. And no, maybe we didn’t react, like, super well, but that doesn’t mean we hate you, or hate that part of you. We just need to like,” he gestures to the ceiling, “re-evaluate our view of the cosmos.”

“It’s not a part of me,” Keith growls.

“Dude, it saved your _life_. It may not change who you are, but it is part of _how_ you are, if that makes sense. It could even be helpful again, like that Altean chameleon thing!”

Keith fumes. “I don’t _want_ it to be helpful.”

Hunk shrugs. “Well, then maybe you need to re-evaluate your view of the cosmos, too.”

Keith just stares moodily into his space food.

“Oh, come on,” Hunk nudges his shoulder. “At least eat your food. If you don’t get some kind of nourishment soon I think Shiro’s gonna have an aneurism.”

And maybe bringing Shiro’s wellbeing into this is low, but hey, Keith starts eating again and if it works, it works.

*^^^*

“Will you look at me, dammit?” Lance yells, cornering Keith in the hallway after the asshole tries to weasel past him _again_. “You think you can just avoid us forever?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Keith tells the wall. “I just need some space.”

“Yeah, that’s what Hunk said _a week ago_. And now we need to deal with this as a team!”

“A _team_?” Keith spits. “When have you ever wanted the two of us to be a _team_? You’re always on my case, always putting me down, and whenever we work well together you spend the next week denying it ever happened!”

Um, okay – _ouch_. That is not _at all_ an accurate representation of – whatever, Lance can prioritize. Because Keith is _still not looking at him_.

“Well, I’m not denying it now. Because we need to fix this before we go back to our epic rivalry –”

“Fix this?” Keith yells.  At least he’s looking at Lance now. “There is no _fixing this_ , Lance, there is no _way_ to fix this. I’m Galra! _That’s_ how I can beat you at everything, why I’m such a good pilot, a good fighter! You should be happy! You finally have an excuse for why I can so easily wipe the floor with you!”

“E- _excuse_ me?” Lance splutters and throws his arms out. “You can’t _wipe the floor_ with me, in real combat I’d blast you to pieces before you even got close! And you’re not better at everything, I’m _way_ better at all the diplomacy stuff than you are!”

“You’re still miles behind everyone else!”

“Oh, good! You’re just insulting _yourself_ now, I guess you don’t need _me_ anymore –”

“Then why don’t,” Keith growls, taking a step towards him, “you just _leave me alone_?”

“Make me,” Lance snaps, because fuck Keith and his lone-wolf bullshit.

“Don’t,” Keith warns. “Tempt me.”

“Whatever,” Lance snarls, getting right up in Keith’s face. “You think I’m scared of you?”

And suddenly Keith jerks back, blood draining from his face.

Oh no. Oh no no no, he _does_. This mullet-brained moron actually thinks –

Lance runs through his options quickly, and comes to the obvious solution: he bursts out laughing. The look on Keith’s face is priceless.

“Keith.” Lance puts his hands firmly on each of Keith’s shoulders, his own shoulders shaking more than is probably necessary to get his point across. “How many times have I told you that it’s _impossible_ to take you seriously with that hair? You’re the least terrifying person I know – Hunk doesn’t count – and I know this hurts your bad-boy ego, but...”

Keith is still leaning away from him. He’s avoiding Lance’s gaze again.

Lance rolls his eyes as dramatically as he can manage (which is _quite_ dramatically, thank you very much). “What are you gonna do, direct me into another invisible electric wall? Ignore my excellent strategic advice? Snap at me with your lame-ass come-backs? Because I know you, buddy, and that’s all you’ve really got against me.”

“Yeah well,” Keith shrugs him off forcefully. “I guess you don’t know me as well as you thought you did. Who knows what I’m actually capable of –”

“Oooooookaaaay,” Lance says, throwing an arm around Keith and pulling him along down the corridor. “I think it’s time you got Allura’s ‘Galra Talk’. We’ve each had to sit through it – me _twice_ , for some reason – it’s about time you did.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Keith squirms as Lance steers him towards the bridge, but he’s not throwing Lance against a wall – not that Lance is admitting that Keith could probably do that – so Lance figures he’s winning this one.

“Allura’s been looking for you all week.” Lance explains. “She doesn’t want to push the issue, but hey, according to you I’m _super_ pushy, so here we go.”

Is it a good thing that Keith is going relatively quietly? Or is that just a _really_ _bad_ sign?

*^^^*

“Argh! Lance!”

Allura turns away from the consol to see Keith reeling onto the bridge. The second he finds his feet, he whirls around and glares at the door as it slides shut behind him, someone cackling madly on the other side. Oh, for the love of Altea - she’d _told_ Lance not to push him!

But, well...if he was here _anyway_...

“Keith!” She greets, smiling as wide as she can. “How nice to see you!”

“Um.” Keith glances at her. “Hey, Allura.”

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you,” Allura barrels on. “Do you have some time?”

“Um,” Keith says again. He glances between her and the door. “Sure.”

“Excellent.” Allura claps her hands together. “Step over here; there’s something I want to show you.”

As Keith slowly walks towards her, she draws up their map of the universe – their antiquated, patchily updated map of the universe – and star systems swirl around them. “Here,” she says, spinning through systems until she reaches what she’s looking for. She points to a ringed, Altea-sized planet that she’s marked with a red symbol, “This one.”

Keith blinks at it. “This what?”

Allura takes a breath. “This is Duum’alan, the homeworld of the Galra.”

Keith reels back. “Why would I want to see that?”

Oh, quiznak. Perhaps this _was_ too soon. “I just think that it’s important for you to know –”

“What, what my home planet looks like?” Keith bites out. “Where I belong?”

“No!” Allura is firm. “Keith, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what _did_ you mean? Lance said something about a “Galra talk”, but I have no interest in knowing anything about the Galra except how to kill –”

“Keith!” she commands, and he stops, startled. Allura tries to reign herself in. “I know the Galra are not your people. But they are _people_. _That_ is what I want to talk to you about.”

Keith fumbles for a second. “What?”

Allura sighs, closing her eyes and opening them again. “All this time, we’ve been talking as though the Galran race and Zarkon’s empire are the same thing, but they’re not.” She takes another breath; this is just as hard to say now as it was the first time. “It’s my fault. I’ve talked so much about defeating Zarkon, and the horrible things that his empire has done, that I fear I’ve generalized the situation for you Paladins. So I want to make it clear: our enemy is Zarkon and his military – not every Galra in existence.”

“But...” Keith’s brow is furrowed. “We know it’s not just Zarkon that’s doing those things... This military you’re talking about, that’s a _ton_ of Galra, an entire _empire_ , and they’re in every corner of the universe, enslaving whole planets and destroying worlds!”

“True,” Allura concedes, and for a moment she can smell the Mountain Juniberries and it _hurts_ , but, “and it is our responsibility to put an end to it. But there is more to any culture than its military or system of government, and it’s unfair to use a political term to define a whole race.”

Keith looks nonplussed. “You’re saying there are _good_ Galra?”

“I’m saying that the Galra are not _inherently_ bad _at all_ ,” Allura responds, and Keith gapes. “The empire is something political, economic, sociological, _not_ biological,” she explains. “The Galra created something evil, but that does not mean that _they_ are evil.” She puts her hands on her hips. “What do you actually know about the Galra, beyond their military, Keith?”

Keith hesitates. This is her cue! A prepared speech always has its advantages.

“Gatar’alan,” Allura says, indicating the marked solar system again, “is the Galran homesystem. I had visited a few of its planets, with my father, before Zarkon started the war. Back then, the Galra had only expanded their civilization to uninhabited planets in their own solar system. They had a representative on the Galactic council, and their transportation hubs were used – by choice – by peoples throughout the galaxy. The Galra used to be a part of the galactic community, not an empire to control it.”

Keith’s eyebrows had gone up, but now his frown comes back. “What does it matter? They’re an empire _now_.”

“Yes, but that’s not _all_ they are, Keith. The Galra live in family units, have an entire planet dedicated to institutes of learning, and make beautiful music and art. I went to one of their festivals as a little girl, and it’s one of my fondest memories.” She can still see the lights, if she tries hard enough.

Keith chokes. “You what?”

“My mother and I were invited as diplomats by the last Galran ruler; he was a stern individual, but he valued inter-system cooperation – it was Zarkon who turned the Galra’s focus to invasion, once he rose to power.”

“That – that doesn’t excuse all of the horrible things the Galra have done for the last _ten thousand years_!” Keith retorts. “Just because Zarkon’s the worst of them, doesn’t mean the rest of them are off the hook! It takes a lot of people to do the damage they’re causing.”

Ten thousand years – why is hearing it still such a shock? “What the Galra are doing, as a civilization, to other peoples is unacceptable,” Allura agrees. “And we _will_ put a stop to it. But our goal should be just that – to destroy the Galran empire, their rule over the Galaxy – not to destroy the Galra themselves. While Galran soldiers make up the majority of our enemies, we should never kill someone just because they _are_ Galra.” She looks hard at Keith, hoping he understands what she means.

Keith pales and swallows. Then he crosses his arms and looks at the ground. Allura knows that means he’s thinking this over – or, at least, she’s _pretty sure_ that’s what it means. Keith is harder to read than the other Paladins. Always... _stewing_...over things.

“I guess I never thought of it like that,” Keith finally mutters, stilted.

Allura sighs again. “I don’t blame you, Keith. As I said, I failed to give you Paladins adequate information, and I recognize that you and Shiro, especially, have experiences that make dealing with the Galra difficult for you.”

Keith nods. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean – you’re right. About all of this. I’ll...I’ll adjust.”

Allura feels her shoulders relax. What a relief. “I’m sorry as well, to everyone, but especially to you. You do not deserve to feel such pain in learning of your parentage.”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not your fault I have baggage.”

Allura, carefully, puts a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t push her off, so she tries to catch his eyes with hers. “I hope that now you can understand that there is nothing _wrong_ with you, Keith. There is nothing wrong with _being_ Galra, or part-Galra.”

Keith nods tightly.

Allura hesitates. “I won’t lie and say I understand how you feel right now,” she says slowly. “But Keith. There’s no reason to doubt yourself. Everyone on this ship knows who you are. _You_ are a Paladin of Voltron, a defender of the universe. And you are part of who we are.”

Keith looks away, but Allura – again – is _pretty sure_ that it’s because he’s hiding a blush. “I know,” he says, like he’s just had an epiphany.

Allura beams. Mission success! “Good. I know it may take a while to...what was that Earth expression? ‘Get back into the hang of things’? But if you’re feeling up for it, I know everyone would love to have you back in the afternoon team training session.”

A second passes, but Keith nods again. Brilliant! Wait until the mice hear.

*^^^*

Keith isn’t exactly sure about this, but he can’t argue with the logic. And everyone else seems really...gung-ho about it.

“Alright!” Lance hoots, coming onto the bridge in his uniform. “Let’s see what Galra cities are made of.”

“I stress again,” Allura, dressed in her flight suit, reminds them all, “that this is a recon mission _only_. Do _not_ engage any enemy forces unless it is absolutely necessary for your personal safety. This is a peaceful settlement and we are only here to gather information so that we can get a more accurate picture of the local cultural and political climate.”

Hunk smiles. “Peaceful, huh? That’ll make a nice change.”

“Peaceful doesn’t mean it’s without problems,” Shiro warns, arms crossed. “And just because there aren’t as many soldiers here doesn’t mean there won’t be trouble if you’re found out.”

“But it _does_ mean it should be easier to hack into government systems,” Pidge points out with a smirk.

“Plus, there’ll be lots of places to try and chat up babes,” Lance adds.

The others all groan and roll their eyes, but Keith looks over at Lance, confused. “You realize most of the girls here will be Galra, right?”

Lance grins. “Hey, if you’re part-Galra, then they can’t all be that hard on the eyes.”

Keith just glares because rising to Lance’s bait is beneath him, but Hunk side-eyes Lance. “Did...you just call Keith hot?”

 “What?” Lance splutters, turning to Hunk. “I did not!”

“I think you kind of did, bro.”

“I was _trying_ to be _nice_!”

Pidge snickers.

“Well, it’s a bad idea anyway, Lance,” Coran says. “These new hologram costumes should let you blend in without a problem, but they may not stand up to close scrutiny, so better not to risk it.”

“Seriously, guys,” Keith interrupts, and they all look at him. “Is...this really okay?” He fiddles with his glove and glances at Shiro. “Everyone looking like Galra, and... _mingling_ with Galra....”

“It’s fine,” Shiro says, uncrossing his arms. “Really, Keith. I’ll be okay observing things here with Coran. It might even be good for me, to see Galra acting in a non-hostile way.” He smiles at Keith, eyes soft, and Keith finds his stance relaxing, a little.

“And we have, like, a gajillion back-up plans if something goes wrong,” Lance says.

“This is important,” Pidge tells Keith, with that hardened gaze of hers. When the others all nod in agreement, something in Keith’s gut clenches, then lets go.

“Okay,” he says, looking down at his holo-projector wristband. “Okay.”

And it sort of actually is.

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, the Legend of Korra team is in on this show; the Galra can’t all be evil. There’s got to be some complex socio-political shit going on. (ps I haven’t seen the 80s cartoon or the original anime, please no spoilers friends). Basically I noticed that Shiro said “these monster are a plague to the galaxy,” but Allura was saying, “Zarkon, that evil bastard,” and I was like “oh hey” and this popped out.
> 
> Re: my names the for the planet and solar system of the Galra: I totally made them up, but in all fairness, I tried to find a canon name and all I got was “Planet Doom” from the 80s cartoon, and that goes against one of the points of this fic, so....If you know what the planet or system should actually be called and can tell me without giving me any spoilers, please do so!~ (also if my made-up names are actually something in a language that exists, please let me know that too)
> 
> ALSO let me know if anything I wrote in that whole race vs empire thing was offensive. I did my best dealing with such a complicated and sensitive topic without making it an essay-long interlude, but I am by no means perfect and if I accidentally insulted anyone I sincerely apologize.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> P.S. Title is from Greg Laswell’s How the Day Sounds


End file.
